Take Me Out To The Ball Game Page #6

What Irish lad could sit

while the fiddlers are fiddling...

...the pipes are piping,

the women are smiling like it's a wedding.

You should be leaping in the air, knocking

your heels, doing a handsome clog.

Come on, get with us!

Go to it, Michael, my boy.

The Gilhulys were the greatest dancers

in all Ireland.

This is what sent me over Cockney

the night of the Big Wind.

Now you can see why the O'Briens

were the first kings of Ireland.

- Good little hoofer, that O'Brien.

- Not a bad shortstop, either.

That infield wouldn't be much good

without him.

- Where did you get that hat?

- Where did you get that hat?

Where did you get that hat?

"'Where did you get that hat? '

Folks ask me every day

"'lsn't it a nifty one? '

You often hear them say

"Put it on, it's funny

Can't you see the people smile

"It keeps me busy telling them

"The history of this tile

"It's the hat my dear old father wore

"Upon St. Patrick's Day

"Now talk about respect

With his head erect

"As he marched down old Broadway

"'Sure not a man in line

Looked half as fine'

"My dear old mother used to say

"'As your father did

In his old-time lid

"'Upon St. Patrick's Day'

"It's the hat my dear old father wore

"Upon St. Patrick's Day

"Talk about respect

With his head erect

"As he marched down old Broadway

"'Sure not a man in line

Looked half as fine'

"My dear old mother used to say

"'As your father did

In his old-time lid

"'Upon St. Patrick's Day

"'lt's the hat your dear old father wore

"'Upon St. Patrick's Day'

"Talk about respect

With his head erect

"As he marched down old Broadway

"'Not a man in line

Looked half as fine'

"Your dear old mother used to say

"'As your father did

In his old-time lid

"'Upon St. Patrick's Day"'

What a wonderful clambake!

The most wonderful clambake

there ever was!

Yeah, wonderful.

What's eating you?

As if I didn't know.

I told you, I'm not interested in Katherine.

She's not my type.

She's not my type, either. Forget it.

Sure, I'll forget it.

But you can't forget it.

Why don't you quit fighting it, Ed?

After all, she's beautiful and she's smart...

And she's got a great throwing arm.

Great throwing arm?

You just didn't look any further.

Remember the night we saw her

swimming in the pool?

Remember?

No.

"No," he says.

In that gold bathing suit.

You're drooling.

Yeah, but Shirley's my type.

Yeah. She's kind of timid and sort of shy.

You should've seen me sweep her

off her feet.

That's what they like, the rough stuff.

You got to treat them rough.

Caveman stuff.

They like that caveman stuff.

She hits me over the head

with her own club...

...slings me over her shoulder,

carries me out of the cave into the woods.

And what'd you do?

I don't know. I was unconscious.

You missed the best part of the dream.

You think so?

- Mr. Lorgan, how are you?

- Fine.

I'd like to have a chat with you.

I'll get a newspaper.

I'll be back in a few minutes.

Won't you have a chair, Mr. Lorgan?

What's on your mind?

I liked the way you handled yourself

last night at the clambake.

Yes, sir, I liked it a lot.

Thank you, Mr. Lorgan.

What are you leading up to?

A job.

I'm thinking of opening up a caf.

Big, swanky place for the carriage trade.

You know, I could use you as a show.

That's swell, but what about Dennis?

He's my partner, you know.

- I think we can work that out.

- Good.

How much will you pay?

You've been getting a lot of publicity.

I can double your last vaudeville salary.

- It's a deal.

- Good. When can you start?

Not until after the baseball season's over.

Not till then?

You don't think I could walk out now,

do you?

We've practically got the pennant cinched.

I'm not interested in baseball.

I've got a chorus of girls waiting,

ready to start to rehearse.

Thirty of them.

Thirty girls.

A bevy of beauties.

I'm sorry you can't make it.

Wait a minute.

Couldn't you hold off for a while?

The baseball season's almost over.

I'll tell you what I'll do.

Are you going to be in town for a while?

Sure. The season finishes here.

Couldn't you arrange to get away at nights

for rehearsals?

No. I couldn't do that.

Then there's no use of talking any more.

- So long, Eddie.

- Wait a minute.

Look, I'll do it, but...

I'll do it, but keep it quiet, will you?

Sure. I wouldn't want to get you in a jam.

I'll tell you what. I'll call you tomorrow

to tell you when we start rehearsals.

- So long.

- So long.

- So long, fellows.

- So long.

- How do you know it'll work?

- With Eddie? It's a cinch.

Didn't you see his face when I told him

there'd be 30 chorus girls?

Look what one dame did

to a guy named Samson.

Who was he, a fighter?

I'm all set. I'll get the act framed.

Then when the season's over, you're in.

Of course,

I'll have to sneak out every night.

You'll cover up for me, won't you?

What else can I do? I'm your pal.

That a boy!

You can't rehearse all night

and play ball the next day.

A few bad breaks,

we can lose the pennant!

Quit worrying, will you?

I can handle it. I'm in great shape.

WOLVES DEFENDING

PENNANT LEAD AT HOME

Wolves Lead Dwindles

Wolves Drop Four Straight

Pass me the milk, will you, Ray?

"Wolves continue slump in game

with Chicago.

"The Wolves dropped

another game today to Chicago...

"...who swept to a 6-5 victory

aided by a flurry of last inning hits...

"...and three startling errors by..."

By shortstop, Eddie O'Brien.

Go ahead, read it.

What's got into him, anyway?

The kid's lost his pep. No coordination,

no zip. He plays like a tired old man.

He ain't tired. He's been hitting the hay

early every night. In fact, too early.

- That's very unusual for O'Brien.

- I should say so.

Something's eating him.

What do the other boys say?

Have they got any ideas?

No, not exactly.

- Come on, what is it?

- It's nothing.

If O'Brien stays in this slump,

we can kiss the pennant goodbye.

So if you have any ideas, open up.

Come on.

Tell her.

It's really got two angles, see?

You take a race horse.

He's going great, winning every out.

But, all of a sudden

he starts looking around.

He's getting restless, see?

What has O'Brien got to be restless about?

It's like he says, you take that race horse

when he starts looking around...

...he's looking at another nag.

With a ribbon in her hair.

That sounds like a pretty silly reason

for losing ball games.

But, if O'Brien wants to chase the girls,

let him.

Who's stopping him?

As long as he keeps decent hours.

Yes, that other angle.

What else is bothering

our little race horse?

You.

Me?

You're the other nag.

I'm the...

Really?

You want me to play up to O'Brien,

so we'll win the pennant, is that it?

Can you think of a better reason?

No, of course not.

Personally, I'm only interested

in his batting average.

I can't rehearse all night and play ball

in the afternoon. I need some rest.

Get someone else. I'm through.

You'll have all next week to rest.

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